Athetius
by kawaiighost
Summary: He was an innocent man corrupted by just a book. A book about Athetius, an assasin that lived long before him. Now the man has taken Athetius's identity, and is confessing his life.


Athetius Isustris. For years, I have been called by that name...that moniker. For years, I have suffered through the pain of memories and emotions of my past. For years, I have hidden the _truth _of my history. I have lived a shallow, if not torturous life. Never have I shared with anyone my true life, nor of how I got to Cyrodil. But now…now I will. Now, you shall know the horrifying truth of my life.

The first section of my new life, I like to call the Foundation. I was in a local bookshop in my hometown of Farrun. Living in High Rock was rather boring, so I always had time to read, my only hobby at the time. The man at the bookstore, Llarar Delvi, a middle aged Dunmer, recommended me a book: _The Inn_. He told me that it was almost magical. Of course, I was skeptical. He didn't mean _magika _magical. He meant it would change my perspective on life. I simply scoffed, and took the book home.

As always, I paid no attention to anything in the book. All I read was words; I didn't really care about its contents. But, as time went on, I found myself wanting more and more of the book. I wanted to be _in _the book. The main protagonist, an average man just as myself, joined the Dark Brotherhood. Everything I read about him resembled myself. His eye color, his career, even the same _town_ we grew up in. As I read on, I got sucked more and more into it. Days, weeks, even _months_ went on, and I almost forgot myself. I found that I was no longer eating. I hardly ever left my house, which was also being neglected.

After I finished the book for the first time, I re-read it. Again and Again.

And Again.

Often I would ignore letter sent to me. I would simply let them pile on my table, and continue reading. I would tell visitors at my house to leave because I had a lot of "work" to do. When I rarely did leave my house, childhood friends would remark on how light my once darkened skin was. I eventually noticed my pale skin and how much weight I lost. I thought nothing of it.

Months turned into years, and I all but forgot my family and former friends. I just kept reading. That's when I got a visit from a familiar face: Llarar Delvi. I could see the trouble in his face as I opened the door.

"What is it?" I said rather annoyed, although I was in a somewhat good mood. I paid no attention to my rude welcoming.

"I need the book." He quickly said. For a moment, I didn't quite register what he had said. And then his words hit me like an axe to the face.

"No." I simply replied, then tried to close my door. But it did not shut all the way. His foot was in the doorway. I looked down at his foot, grunted a little, then looked up at his face. A grim look was pasted on to his face like tar.

"Give me the book." I shifted my head a little to the left, but kept my eyes on his.

"No." I repeated, then tried once again in vain to close my door. I could feel the pressure against the door from his foot.

"Get out." Even I could notice the harshness in my voice this time.

"I've seen this happen before, Corlus."

Concentrate on that name, while I think of how to write this down.

That…name of mine, of course, my former name, I don't like to speak about. I'm even having a rough time writing this down. I will explain why I changed it, in due time, dear reader. In due time.

I laughed at his words, not understanding what he meant by them. "I told you, Llarar, get out!" Although in a playful mood, I was serious about him leaving. All I wanted to do was read my book. That's when he pulled out a dagger. I didn't see it at first, still chuckling from what he had said not ten seconds earlier. He sliced me right in the arm. I screamed for help. No one answered. I didn't know what to do, so I backed up away from the door. It swung open from his ever building pressure from his foot, and crashed into my wall, leaving a dent.

"I told you," He yelled, now inside my house. "I want the book!" I stared at him in disbelief, somewhat scared, somewhat amused. He walked closer to me, step by step. By the time he and I were face to face, I had my own dagger in my hand.

"Give me-" He groaned loudly. My dagger had stabbed him in the stomach. I overpowered him, and he dropped his weapon on my wooden floor. I would've heard the clank of metal against wood, if only I had not been so intrigued by his dying. I squatted down next to him, my face only inches away from his.

"You want the book?" I said, intimidating him. I stood up, walked over to my counter, grabbed _The Inn_, and walked back to him.

"Here's your book." I began to rip the daedric book apart.

Now that I look back on that event, I find myself angry, but at the same time, glad that I destroyed that evil book.

The last look I saw on his face was gladness. I suppose, in a way, I had given him what he wanted: to get me away from the book. He smiled at me, blood spewing out of his small mouth, and uttered a few last words.

"Thank you, Corlus." He died that second, a smile as wide as a sea. I slowly looked down at what I had done, and a single tear fell from my eye.

"Its Athetius."


End file.
